


Basement

by sassbandit



Series: sassbandit does Kinktober 2018 [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Consensual Non-Consent, Deepthroating, Gags, HYDRA Trash Party adjacent, M/M, Masks, Roleplay, Spider Gag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 08:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16171676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassbandit/pseuds/sassbandit
Summary: Captain America's mag-cuffed to a sturdy post, on his knees. He struggles, pulling at the restraints. The cuffs won't come off, but he might be able to break the post. He won't do it – it could bring the whole building down on them – but he's making a good show of it.





	Basement

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little consensual Asset/Captain America roleplay for the first day of Kinktober 2018! 
> 
> Prompts: "masks" and "deep-throating".

Captain America's mag-cuffed to a sturdy post, on his knees. He struggles, pulling at the restraints. The cuffs won't come off, but he might be able to break the post. He won't do it – it could bring the whole building down on them – but he's making a good show of it.

Bucky – the Asset – watches from across the basement. He stands silent, still, waiting. He tries to remember how to hold his body like he used to. The stillness is the main thing. Threatening. Inscrutable. He's untied his hair so it hangs down over his face, and he's wearing a mask.

Not _the_ mask. He lost it, along with the rest of his tac gear, in those early days on the run. He found another, in one of those terrifyingly huge hardware stores they have these days. It's meant for... Painting? Lead? Asbestos. Something like that. It covers the lower half of his face, making his breath echo as he inhales through the filters. It's familiar, disturbingly easy to settle in to. 

"You'll pay for this," Captain America says, thickly and indistinctly. A bruise is blooming on his cheek, blood trickling from a cut in his lip. It took some effort to subdue him, to drag him down here, restrain him. His face is uncovered, his helmet tossed aside on the basement floor. His skin looks pale in the light of the uncovered bulb hanging from the low ceiling. His hair is mussed. "My team's coming for me," he says.

 _No, they're not,_ Bucky thinks, but he doesn't say anything out loud. Instead, he steps forward from the shadows, stalks across to where Captain America is still thrashing against his bonds.

Captain America's looks from Bucky's masked face to his gloved hand, where he can see the glint of what Bucky's holding. His eyes widen. "No!" he says, and Bucky bites his lip behind the mask, suppressing a smile, knowing it would show in his eyes. "No, no," Captain America says again, shaking his head. "Fuck you. You wouldn't dare."

Up close, Bucky can see that Captain America's breathing hard, his chest thrust forward as his shoulders are pulled back by the restraints. His knees are spread on the bare concrete, a prominent bulge visible between his legs. The protective pads of his old uniform are scuffed and torn – he hadn't wanted to mess up the current one, hadn't wanted to explain. Bucky approves. It's better this way, seeing him roughed up. 

He's still cussing, and he spits as Bucky gets closer. A wad of saliva and blood hits Bucky somewhere around his left knee. He looks down at it, and then up at Captain America's face. Captain America's eyes are blazing defiance, but when he sees The Asset appraising him, he lowers his gaze just a touch, his lashes shading his eyes, and when he looks up again he's pleading wordlessly, his expression hot with arousal.

Bucky reaches out and grabs Captain America's face, forcing his fingers painfully into the hinges of his jaw to make his mouth open. He tries to pull his head away, but Bucky's metal hand is too strong. Instead he yowls wordlessly as Bucky forces a spider gag between his teeth. It's hard steel, a ring holding his mouth wide open, its arms distending his lips and making more blood trickle down the side of his chin.

Bucky stops to look at him, to appreciate the sight of Captain America like this. He wishes he could take a photo, but his phone's tucked away deep in his pocket and the Asset... wouldn't. Instead he lengthens the stare, makes it flat and uncomfortable for as long as he can, then he reaches down to take out his cock and stroke it purposefully. He doesn't break eye contact. When he's ready, he pushes forward into Captain America's space, pushes him back against the post he's tied to. Then, slowly and inexorably, he feeds his cock into Captain America's mouth, into the gaping hole formed by the gag, across the wet muscle of his tongue. 

Captain America gags and splutters. He thrashes, tries to pull away, but Bucky fists a hand in his hair, pulling his head roughly back. Captain America's eyes glint, and he resists for a minute before letting himself be positioned, tilting his head as though it was all Bucky's idea. Bucky can see the tiniest curl of what might be a smile at the corner of his distended lips. 

Bucky pushes Captain America back harder against the post, crowding against him so that there's no space between them, his knees up hard against Captain America's stomach. He can feel the hard ridges of the uniform, the contained strength underneath it, smell Captain America's sweat and blood permeated through the fabric. He widens his stance, spreading Captain America's thighs apart with his boots, yanks hard on the handful of hair he's holding, and lets out a low growl.

All of a sudden he feels surrender under his hands. Captain America stops struggling, stops resisting. His body is pliant, his mouth falling more widely open. Bucky takes a deep, reverberating breath through his mask and slides his cock down Captain America's throat.


End file.
